


The Catacombs Job

by benjaminrussell



Category: Leverage
Genre: Gen, Set mid s5, job fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-21
Updated: 2017-12-21
Packaged: 2019-02-18 04:07:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,447
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13092078
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/benjaminrussell/pseuds/benjaminrussell
Summary: The team’s latest job takes them to Paris to go up against a property tycoon scamming his low income customers.





	The Catacombs Job

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Radiolaria](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Radiolaria/gifts).



> My gift to radiolaria for the Leverage Secret Santa 2017. I hope you enjoy it!
> 
> I picked the prompt: “The team is behind that and I want to know why.”
> 
> Italics indicates the conversation is happening in French.

**The Plan**

“Émile Lanville, a French property tycoon who does a lot of business in the US,” Hardison said as Sophie, the last to arrive, sat down. He clicked the remote in his hand, and photos, personal details, and financial records of their latest mark filled the screens behind him – everything he’d been able to find out in the few hours since Nate and Parker’s meeting with Diane Sanders, the daughter of one of Lanville’s many victims, and their current client.

“His company specialises in retirement properties for people on low incomes. They convince them that they can afford to buy a home with small initial fees, but then when the payments sharply increase and their customers can’t keep up with their payments, they send in the repo team and take the house and whatever was put up as collateral,” He explained, his tone telling them exactly what he thought of the mark and his company’s business model which didn’t amount to much more than a flat out scam of their customers.

“Unfortunately he’s just returned to France again, for his daughter’s wedding.”

“Okay, we can work with that. So what’s his vice?” Nate asked, looking at the details on screen speculatively.

“Dude loves his wine,” Hardison replied instantly, pressing another button on the remote to bring up several more windows that contained insurance details and financial transactions that gave them a rather comprehensive picture of Lanville’s wine collection.

“Right, so this is what we’re going to do,” Nate announced, before laying out the bare bones of the plan.

“Sophie you’ll be a society belle, moving in similar circles to Lanville, who’s just inherited amongst other things, a sizeable wine collection from your uncle. You have no interest in wine though, so you’re looking to sell it, and that’s how we’ll hook him. Hardison, I want you to find us a suitable collection we can use to convince him to make Sophie an offer, although we’re actually going to give him fakes. That’ll be your job too, once we’ve got our hands on a real collection. We'll sell Lanville the fake collection, and then sell the real wine to one of Sophie’s contacts, getting twice as much money for his victims. Parker and Eliot, you’re going to steal the wine. It will probably involve going in through the catacombs that are hidden under most of the city, because there’s not likely to be much security in place to prevent someone breaking into wine cellars that way.”

“It’ll be like a treasure hunt!” Parker exclaimed gleefully. Eliot’s face lit up too at the idea, and although he tried to hide it, they could all tell he was just as excited as Parker. Nate bit back a grin and brought the briefing to an end – there was no point dragging it out when they had plenty to do, including travelling to Europe.

“Let’s go steal a wine collection!”

***

**The Prep**

Twelve hours later they were setting up their base of operations in one of Sophie’s safe houses – a large apartment on the edge of the centre of Paris that was nominally owned by a British Duchess who didn’t get to visit as often as she’d like, but was in reality yet another of Sophie’s aliases. Sophie had disappeared into the master bedroom, Hardison was assembling his computer setup on half of the large dining room table (it had been the whole table until Eliot told him off), Parker was checking out the roof, and Eliot had gone out to buy groceries, leaving Nate alone in the living room with nothing but the spectacular view of the city. It was easy to see why it was nicknamed the city of love, and especially with the memory of when he’d chased Sophie through the Louvre years ago, he knew it would make a lovely, romantic place to propose. It wasn’t the right time though, not yet. He was fairly sure Sophie would say yes if he asked her now, but he needed to make sure the other three would be okay without them first. He had an idea about who to nominate as his replacement, to allow him and Sophie to leave if she wanted that, and he was sure Parker would excel as the mastermind of Leverage if she was given the chance. He just had to be certain that she was ready and confident enough in her own abilities before passing the torch.

Nate was interrupted from his musings by Hardison popping his head through the doorway.

“I’ve hacked the camera feeds from in and around Lanville’s apartment building,” He said, gaze flicking towards the front door before focusing back on Nate. No doubt looking for Parker and Eliot. Nate had noticed the growing closeness between the three younger members of Leverage, and while Hardison and Parker had announced that they were dating, he had his suspicions that Eliot was also part of the relationship, or at least would be soon if he wasn’t already. None of them had mentioned anything about it though, so he would continue pretending that he hadn’t noticed that anything was different. They’d break the news in their own time.

“Good work,” He replied, turning his back on the window and following Hardison into the kitchen. Making sure not to trip over any of the many cables trailing across the floor, he worked his way around to look at the monitor that seemed to be the main focal point of the setup – at least it was the one currently playing the various security camera feeds. There didn’t look to be much happening at the moment, other than the occasional person passing by on the street outside, but he expected that would change later in the day. Lanville was probably still asleep after the late night he’d had out at another rich guy’s party, celebrating his return to Paris in the excessively opulent way that only people who’d been rich for their whole lives ever seemed to manage.

“Anything interesting happening?” Sophie asked, appearing in the doorway. She’d changed clothes so she’d fit right in with the French elite when she went out later to do some recon, and she looked right in her element. Beautiful, as always, but also full of excitement for their latest con.

“No- oh someone’s about to enter the apartment. It’s the future son-in-law,” Hardison replied, tilting his monitor slightly towards Sophie so she could also see the man walking along the hallway towards Lanville’s front door.

“Oh!” Sophie exclaimed, leaning in to get a closer look at the camera footage, “Oops!”

“What? What’s wrong?” Nate asked, seeing nothing wrong with the images onscreen, but trusting Sophie’s judgement, other potential plans already beginning to form themselves in his mind.

“I’ve conned him before,” Sophie replied, lifting her head to look at Nate, “He doesn’t know I’m a grifter, but he’ll definitely recognise me. Parker will have to play the part instead.”

“Time for plan B then,” He stated, the cogs turning as he thought about all the other parts of their plan that would have to change to allow Parker to grift instead of Sophie.

“As long as it’s not plan M,” Hardison muttered, despite already typing away at his keyboard, adjusting the alias he’d set up to make it suitable for Parker.

***

**The Plan B**

“Right. Now that we know that the mark’s future son-in-law will recognise Sophie, we need to change the plan. Parker, you’ll be our grifter, which means Hardison, you’ll need to help Eliot with the theft,” Nate said, looking at each of the team in turn, before focusing on Hardison, “Have you found us a suitable collection to steal?”

“Oh yeah, I’ve found the perfect target. So get this, Lanville’s lawyer who’s almost as deep into their scam as Lanville himself is, has a large collection of her own right here in Paris. It’s locked in a high security cellar which just as you thought, backs right onto the catacombs that run under a large part of the city,” Hardison replied, grinning at the thought of conning two corrupt people at once.

“Won’t Lanville recognise any bottles that come from his lawyer’s collection?” Eliot asked, folding his arms although he wasn’t scowling quite as much as usual.

“No, even though they steal innocent people’s money together, they actually hate each other,” Hardison explained gleefully.

“Good,” Nate interjected before they got distracted from the plan, “Sophie will call the shots and guide Parker through navigating Parisian high society, which leaves me to forge a wine collection and play backup for Parker if needed.”

“Switching roles is fun!” Parker exclaimed, clapping her hands together.

“We know you like it,” Eliot grumbled, but his glare fooled absolutely no one – the affection in his expression was obvious, and Nate thought that it didn’t even seem like he was even trying to hide it anymore.

“Let’s go steal an inheritance!” Sophie announced, immediately stepping into her role as the mastermind with enthusiasm.

***

**The Recon**

“Guard!” Eliot hissed when he heard footsteps approaching the doorway he and Hardison were crowded in.

“I need another minute!” Hardison whispered back, gaze not straying from the lock he was currently picking.

“We don’t have another minute,” Eliot retorted, before the guard rounded the corner and said something in angry French. Eliot elbowed Hardison to let him know they weren’t alone, and then raised his hands in a placating manner and with an apologetic smile, said, “I’m sorry, we got a bit lost. We’re trying to find the visitor centre.”

“ _Vous ne devriez pas être ici, cette zone est restreinte. Pars ou j’appelle la police!*_ ” The guard replied, although it wasn’t really a reply seeing as she clearly understood Eliot as much as he did her, i.e. basically not at all. The word ‘police’ however was pretty universal.

“ _Si vous plais,_ where is the visitor centre?” Eliot tried again, slowing his speech in case that helped. The woman just looked more irritated, and jabbed her finger back towards the street, almost shouting, “ _Allez_! Go!” Realising he had no chance of grifting their way out of their current situation because of the language barrier, Eliot grabbed Hardison’s bicep and dragged him away.

“ _Américains stupides_ ,” The guard muttered as they hurried away, and that Eliot could understand.

“We’ll have to find another entrance,” Eliot told Hardison in a low voice as they rounded the corner and stepped back onto the street.

“There’s another way down to the catacombs a few streets over,” Hardison replied, consulting the map on his phone, and only looking up when Eliot let go of his arm. The momentary expression of sadness at the loss of contact gave Eliot a warm feeling in the pit of his stomach, but now wasn’t the time for casual affection – they had a job to do, and not much time in which to do it.

“You know Parker’s going to be disappointed when she finds out you didn’t pick that lock in under thirty seconds,” He teased instead, following Hardison’s lead to the alternate entrance.

“I’d like to see you do better!” Hardison spluttered, “And why don’t we talk about the fact you don’t speak French, Mr I-Know-Everything?”

“Never needed it,” Eliot shrugged, which while not strictly true was close to the truth. Every language he knew, he’d learnt from spending a long time living or working in a country that spoke it, and while he’d had the occasional job or mission in French speaking countries, he’d never spent that much time in any of them. He’d picked up a few words of French, but not enough to hold a conversation.

Once they’d snuck into the basement of a church, got through a locked door, and climbed down a long, narrow set of stairs, they finally found themselves in the catacombs. Right in front of them was one of the many mausoleums that filled the underground passages, the walls covered top to bottom in bones that were very distinctively human.

“Nope. No, no, no, I’m not going in there. It’s far too small and there’s way too many skulls. Like seriously, what’s with the décor? I get that it’s a giant burial site, but still,” Hardison babbled, his speech getting steadily quicker and more panicked.

“Dammit Hardison,” Eliot growled, reaching out to grab the other man by the shoulders to stop him turning tail and walking back out before they’d even gone two metres from the entrance. He’d hoped it wouldn’t be the case, but he’d still suspected that Hardison might have issues with the catacombs, especially after being buried alive by the Soldados cartel, which was a memory Eliot didn’t like thinking about, never mind Hardison himself. The sheer gut wrenching terror Eliot had felt when it seemed like they might not be able to find Hardison in time had been awful, and was only outweighed in intensity by the relief that hit him when he had the younger man in his arms, clinging to each other tightly to reassure themselves that Hardison was alive and safe.

“Stay with me,” He told Hardison in a low, steady tone, squeezing his shoulders gently in an attempt to ground him. Unfortunately the claustrophobia wouldn’t be so easily defeated. Hardison was still looking uncomfortably wide eyed and shaken, so Eliot tried a new approach.

“What’s my job?” He asked, keeping all of his attention focused on Hardison, aside from the subconscious part of his brain that was always keeping track of his surroundings.

“Huh?” The question drew Hardison out of himself a little, pulling his thoughts back to Eliot instead of the dark tunnels surrounding them.

“What’s my job?” Eliot repeated, not planning on dropping it until he got an actual response.

“Uh, hitting people?” Hardison finally replied after a short pause, which while not what Eliot was looking for was at least an answer.

“To protect you,” He corrected, still in the calming tone of voice, “And that’s what I’m going to do. I won’t let you get hurt, and I’m not going to leave you alone down here. You’re safe. Do you trust me?” Hardison nodded, and then when Eliot kept looking at him expectantly, he said shakily, “Yeah. I trust you.”

“Good,” Eliot said, “Now you focus on doing your job, getting us the information we need, and I’ll do my job and keep you safe. Now, you good to continue?” There was a beat of silence, and then sounding slightly more confident, Hardison said, “Yeah. I think so.”

“Come on then. Let’s get this done.”

***

**The Setup**

Parker entered the gallery and looked around, disguising the fact she was scoping the place out by pretending she was just examining the artwork. Admittedly some of the pieces were rather tempting, and in other circumstances she might have decided to take one of them home with her, but tonight she was Camille Picard and theft was the last thing on Camille’s mind.

“Twirl a bit of your hair around your finger and give him a small smile,” Sophie instructed over the comms as Parker neared the gallery owner. Parker was getting more confident in her ability to grift, but she still struggled with understanding people’s motivations sometimes, which was why she’d asked Sophie to give her a few pointers throughout the evening. She’d gone undercover at parties before, but it was important to give off the right impression this time, and one wrong move or expression at the wrong time could be enough to give the mark second thoughts. Sophie had told her that she had faith in Parker’s abilities, but it wasn’t quite as easy to believe in herself when it came to something that went against all her natural instincts. She smiled at the owner, played with her hair, and walked on by, continuing her meandering path to the centre of the room where the main attraction was. She could see the mark out of the corner of her eye as she approached the small collection of Egyptian fertility sculptures, but paid him no attention. The point of the evening was just for the mark to see her, so when she struck up a conversation with him (or made him think he was the one who approached her) at the party in a few days he would recognise her and let down his guard. If he thought she moved in the same circles as he did, he theoretically wouldn’t suspect it was a con.

“How did you con the other guy?” She murmured into her comm. The gallery opening wasn’t the most interesting event, and well, she was curious. Sophie’s stories always seemed to have lots of excitement and adventure in them, even when it was about something fairly mundane, the opposite of Eliot’s where he made everything sound simple and boring even when it was obvious there was more to the story. She knew that was because he didn’t like talking about his past, but still. Eliot’s back story was like a real life action movie and the bad parts aside, it involved him being badass a lot. There was a reason everyone in that world knew his name after all.

“It began with an exquisite Degas painting,” Sophie replied, automatically using the voice that made stories sound like they happened a long time ago and far away in a fairytale. Parker could tell Sophie was picturing the scene and remembering the events fondly, and the tiny sigh that followed her words made Parker guess that Nate had been chasing her at that point. They were always Sophie’s favourite tales.

“But I’ll tell you later. Now you need to move away before Lanville reaches you, so we can create some mystery.”

***

**The Theft**

“We’ve gotta be careful otherwise we might bring the roof down on us, and I for one don’t want to be buried alive again,” Hardison warned, glancing between the wall that separated them from the basement that was their goal, and his tablet. Eliot refrained from telling him that if the roof came down they’d likely be dead on impact or shortly after due to the sheer amount of infrastructure above them, and instead settled for grumbling, “I know that. You think I haven’t drilled into a building before?”

“My faith that you can do literally everything ever has been shaken by the fact you can’t speak French,” Hardison shot back, able to keep up their usual banter even while his concentration was focused on hacking the little security the lawyer had on the actual wine cellar. The door to it was reasonably secure, but clearly she’d never thought that someone would break in through the walls instead.

“I never said I could do everything,” Eliot muttered, as he marked the spot on the wall that was half the width of the cellar.

“No, you just keep revealing new talents and acting like it’s no big deal. Aha, got it. We’re good to go,” Hardison said, switching topics mid way with no interruption or pause for breath. Eliot let the subject drop and tucked his tape measure and chalk away, before glancing over the wall in front of them to double check his markings and switching on the large industrial drill they’d lugged down there, ending all chance of conversation.  
It took a while, but eventually they made a hole in the wall big enough for the two of them to get through, and more importantly for them to get the wine out. Hardison let loose a low whistle at the sight that greeted them when they peered through. There were an awful lot of bottles of wine on display, and presumably even more in the crates that were stacked against the walls on each side. Way more than they needed to make the con work.

“Not bad,” He commented, carefully climbing through into the cellar as he looked around. Eliot pushed the drill further out of the way and then followed him, running over the list of things to look out for that Sophie had given them in his mind.

“Let’s make this quick,” He said, heading right while Hardison took the left side of the room. As previously planned, they made a beeline for all the bottles that they could see were the most expensive, keeping an eye out for the specific years and vintages that Sophie had told them they were likely to find. Eliot knew a fair bit about wine himself, but his knowledge was more to do with what paired well with different types of food rather than the ins and outs of what was most valuable. Sure, he’d stolen the odd bottle before, but that had always been a client wanting something specific and him going after what he was told to. He’d never had to do any in depth research about the pieces themselves. The two of them soon built up quite a collection, loading one of the carts they’d brought for this exact purpose with the bottles they selected, repurposing crates and straw from the cellar to keep them safe and secure. As soon as the cart was full they pushed it down the hallway to a small alcove where it would be out of sight of a cursory glance and out of the way, and then they pulled up the next cart and started loading that one too.

***

**The Grift**

Parker smiled at the man she was chatting to at the bar, but the majority of her attention was on Lanville, who’d spent the last ten minutes greeting various people and moving around the edges of her peripheral vision.

“ _Do you know anyone who could help me sell my collection?_ ” She asked in perfect French, as out of the corner of her eye she spotted Lanville approaching the bar behind her.

“ _I’ll give you the number of my contact at the local winery,_ ” The man replied, grabbing a napkin off the bar and scribbling a phone number on it, “ _Ask for Adalie and say Louis Bisset referred you. She’ll be able to help you_.”

“ _Thank you_ ,” Parker thanked him, injecting some warmth into her accompanying smile by thinking about Hardison and Eliot’s very Serious and Important argument about soccer the night before. Then right on cue, Lanville interrupted their conversation and drew ‘Camille’s’ attention to himself by touching her elbow and saying, “ _Excuse me Mademoiselle. I couldn’t help but overhear you’re looking to sell your wine collection. I could maybe do you a favour and help you there._ ” Her first impression of meeting their mark in person was that he was just as unpleasant and skeezy as he’d seemed from Hardison’s research, not least because of his use of the outdated term ‘mademoiselle’. But he was acting just as they’d hoped, so she turned around and offered him her hand.

“ _Why, thank you,_ ” She said as he bent his head and kissed the back of her hand. The touch made her skin crawl, but she forced down her instinct to make a run for it and introduced herself instead.

“ _I’m Camille Picard._ ”

“ _Émile Lanville,_ ” Lanville replied, grinning at her, “ _Nice to meet you, Camille. Here, let me buy you a drink._ ” Without waiting for an answer, he beckoned over the bartender and ordered two glasses of champagne.

“Ugh,” Parker muttered as his attention was diverted, knowing Hardison and Sophie at least would be able to hear her. Their answering, “I know. What an awful man,” and, “Just think about all we’re gonna steal from him, babe,” helped, and so when Lanville turned back to her, champagne in hand, she could return his grin with (a fake) one of her own.

“ _So how might you be able to help me?_ ” Parker asked, clinking her glass against his.

“ _I’m something of a wine connoisseur myself. I’m always on the lookout for more bottles to add to my own collection, so if you’d like I’ll take a bit of a look and then maybe make you an offer. Why don’t you tell me a bit about it?_ ” He said, looking at her in a way that made her glad she was wearing a rather demure outfit.

“ _My uncle passed away a few months ago, and amongst other things, he left me several hundred bottles of wine. Now I like a good wine as much as the next person, but I’m no collector, and I certainly don’t have anywhere to keep that many bottles in the long term, which is why I’m looking to sell the collection to someone who might appreciate it more,_ ” She explained.

“ _Tell you what_ ,” Lanville replied, “ _Let’s arrange a meeting tomorrow, and you bring a selection of bottles. I’ll tell you how much they’re worth and then as long as I’m interested in the vintages I’ll make you an offer for the lot. How’s that sound?_ ” Parker gave him a relieved smile and beamed, “ _That sounds wonderful. You’d be doing me such a favour – I’ve no idea how to navigate the wine world and I barely had any idea where to even start looking! Shall we say ten am at Café de la Paix?_ ”

“ _Perfect. I’ll see you there_.”

***

**The Hand Off**

Eliot parked the truck outside Lanville’s villa, behind ‘Camille’s’ tiny Porsche convertible, before jumping out of the vehicle, still muttering the French phrases Sophie had taught him under his breath to make sure when he used them they’d roll straight off his tongue. He caught Hardison’s eye as they met around the back of the truck, but they were in character even if it was only as delivery men, so they kept their usual banter for later and instead set about opening the doors ready for inspection. Sure enough, only a few moments later they heard the faint sounds of Parker talking in French as she and Lanville approached from the house. The meeting earlier in the day had gone just as Sophie predicted, with Lanville feigning only casual interest to hide the fact he thought he could scam Camille by paying her well under market price for the collection, which just reinforced Eliot’s desire to make him pay for all the wrongs he’d done. Also like Sophie predicted, Lanville was now looking to make the sale quickly before Camille discovered that she’d been underpaid, which suited them just fine. The quicker it was over with, the less likely their con would be to be discovered, and the sooner they could get away with Lanville’s money and the real wine bottles they’d stolen from his lawyer. Parker led Lanville around to the back of the truck where Eliot and Hardison bracketed the now open doors, and gave them both a smile that was lacking its usual familiarity as she dismissed them.

“ _Merci messieurs_.” They strolled back around to the front of the truck, where they were out of the way but within earshot in case anything went wrong, and Hardison pulled out his phone to get up a screen showing both ‘Camille’s’ and Lanville’s bank accounts. As soon as the payment dropped into the bank account Hardison had set up for the con, he’d transfer it straight out again, through a string of shell corporations and offshore bank accounts until it would be almost impossible to track, and therefore safe enough to divide up between Lanville’s victims. Eliot listened to Lanville and Parker’s conversation, focusing on her tone as he didn’t understand most of their words, fairly confident that he knew her well enough by now to recognise if she thought the situation might turn dangerous, and occasionally glanced at Hardison’s phone to see if anything had happened. The truck rocked slightly as Lanville climbed inside to check the crates, but they’d expected that so Eliot didn’t worry. The top few bottles in the crates closest to the doors were real, so that even if he thoroughly inspected a few he wouldn’t realise anything was wrong, and Nate’s forgeries of the rest should be good enough to fool even an expert’s passing glance. Hardison’s forgery expertise and Sophie’s knowledge of wines had served him well. Then Parker laughed, a light airy thing that sounded so unlike her and made Eliot want to hear her laugh for real, Lanville stepped down from the truck, and the two of them exchanged a few more words. Eliot nudged Hardison, warning him that their cue was about to come up, and then just a few moments later Parker called out, “Amou! Stephan!” He inhaled, held the breath for a brief moment, and then walked around the truck once more, Hardison close behind him.

“ _Oui, madam_?” He asked. Then Parker spoke again, and while neither Eliot nor Hardison understood her, they knew what she wanted due to having rehearsed the scene earlier.

“ _Certainement, madam_ ,” He replied, catching Parker’s eye briefly enough that Lanville wouldn’t notice but so they could still share a wordless glance. Her micro expressions told him that she still thought everything was going fine (and once again Sophie’s teachings came in useful), so he turned to the truck and set about unloading it. Parker followed Lanville back into the house to finalise the deal and take payment, while Eliot and Hardison were left to unload all the crates. Luckily Lanville’s own staff were putting them away in the basement, because it was hard enough work lugging them all to the back door, but the moment that Hardison’s phone pinged and they could see the money appear and disappear out of ‘Camille’s’ account reminded them it was all worth it. They were back behind the truck, having just unloaded the last lot of crates, so Eliot held his fist out to Hardison who tapped his own against it, grinning widely at him.

“We did it man,” Hardison exclaimed, tucking his phone away now he’d made sure the money was safely gone. Buoyed by the elation at a job (almost) well done and spurred on by Hardison’s excitement, Eliot did without their usual handshake and instead pulled him into a tight hug. Hardison’s arms snaked around his shoulders and he said, grinning, “Aww yes, that’s what I’m talking about. We should celebrate like this more often.”

“Don’t push your luck,” Eliot grumbled, but it was evident to even his own ears that he didn’t mean it. He assumed Hardison was about to say something else, but then Parker jumped on his back and cried, “Group hug!” Eliot tried to scowl and pretend he wasn’t enjoying the hug, but he couldn’t quite manage it when he was sandwiched between his two favourite people, and they’d just successfully conned another slime bag of a businessman. He let the hug go on for another couple of moments before extricating himself and saying, “Come on, let’s get out of here before he realises something’s wrong.”

***

**The Celebration**

“My fence found a buyer for the wine, so the money should be in my bank account shortly,” Sophie announced as she returned to the apartment, speaking loud enough to be heard over the whirlwind of packing that greeted her. Parker was sat on the coffee table, surrounded by piles of rope (certainly more than there had been at the start of the trip) that she was coiling into neat piles, while Hardison and Eliot could just be seen in the kitchen, arguing about, well she didn’t know and didn’t want to. Hardison was barely concealing a grin, and Eliot was pulling the face that meant he didn’t want to admit that he was actually enjoying himself, so it couldn’t be anything serious. Nate was stood by the window, watching it all with an expression of fond resignation, and presumably going over the job in his mind, analysing every last thing that happened. She stepped around the hazards on the floor to join him, drawing his attention to her as she reached him.

“Our flight’s not until nine. We’ve got a while to wait still,” He said, wrapping his arm around her with a small smile.

“Let’s go celebrate. Me and Eliot found this really cool cinema when we were exploring the catacombs, and we should totally go and check it out,” Hardison suggested, suddenly no longer arguing with Eliot.

“A secret underground movie theatre? I wanna go!” Parker cried, dropping her armful of rope to bounce to her feet instead. Nate rolled his eyes, and caught Sophie’s gaze briefly to share an amused glance, but said, “Why not? Going to an illegal movie screening won’t be the worst thing we’ve done this trip.”

“No, that’d be Eliot not being able to speak French,” Hardison snarked, side stepping to avoid the weak punch that flew his way.

“Dammit Hardison!”

**Author's Note:**

> * “This area is restricted, you shouldn’t be here. Go before I call the police!”
> 
> The cinema mentioned was inspired by this.


End file.
